by Caleb Krisp
‘Come,’ said Miss Frost.
We walked swiftly along the street, taking refuge around the side of a stately mansion. Moments later a pair of orderlies from Lashwood hurried past without spotting us. Miss Frost was peering into the night with a great deal of interest.
‘Your new friend, Miss Dumbleby, will have the entire city looking for you by morning.’
‘They cannot lock me up again,’ I whispered firmly. ‘I’m not bonkers.’
‘You, Miss Pocket? Never.’ But there was mirth in her voice. Horrible dingbat!
The mention of Estelle’s name brought the horror of what her family had done rushing back. I looked hard at Miss Frost. ‘I know that Anastasia Radcliff came from your world. What I don’t know is how.’
For the first time the former governess appeared to falter. Finally, she said, ‘Anastasia was my friend – a younger sister, you might say. Her mother is someone of high rank in Prospa and Anastasia’s life was mapped out for her. I suppose she yearned for the freedom of a simpler life, where she was able to choose her own destiny.’
‘You helped her cross, didn’t you?’
She nodded. ‘Anastasia only asked for three months – three months to live as an ordinary young woman in London.’ Miss Frost sighed and it was plump with regret. ‘So I arranged for her to stay with the Snagsbys and fulfil her wish.’
I knew the next part well enough. ‘She fell in love with Sebastian and told him the truth about where she was from.’
‘Correct. When Anastasia returned home, Sebastian was heartbroken – he went to the Snagsbys and pretended to be interested in the necklace, asking to see it. Foolishly they agreed and when Sebastian saw it he –’
‘He put it on, just like Rebecca,’ I said softly.
‘Sebastian knew it was the only way he would see Anastasia again.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Against great odds they found each other in Prospa and were married in secret, though Sebastian met the same fate as all others who used the stone. Anastasia found out she was to have a baby and, fearing that her mother would do something unspeakable to the unborn child, she crossed back to this world without telling a soul.’
‘Which is when you came looking for her.’
‘Tell me, Miss Pocket,’ said the grim Mistress of the Clock, her eyes still trained on the street, ‘what did you learn about Anastasia? Do you know where she and her child fled to?’
I did not answer her. For Miss Frost grabbed the side of her neck suddenly. Pulled from it a small silver dart. Then fell to her knees.
I crouched beside her. ‘What should I do, dear?’
‘Leave,’ she said, and her voice was horridly pained.
‘I won’t.’
With what strength Miss Frost had left she pulled me close. ‘The Rambler Inn in Hammersmith,’ she whispered, ‘go there.’
Then she slumped to the ground in a heap.
It felt treacherous leaving her lying there. The victim of a poisoned dart. I ran out into the street, fearing a similar fate to Miss Frost. Was poison not fatal? It certainly was in every high quality penny dreadful I had ever read. I charged through the gloomy streets of Highgate as if I were in a race for my life. Which was true enough.
My legs picked up speed as I dashed around a passing carriage and practically flew up on to the footpath. I ploughed on, darting through a rabbit warren of streets; not at all sure if I was still in Highgate. I quickly decided to wait at the London Library until morning and seek Miss Carnage’s assistance. Coming to the end of the path, I turned the corner sharply, running straight into something. No, someone.
He pulled me up by the arms.
‘Well, well, what have we here?’ He was dressed in the same black and white uniform worn by all the orderlies at Lashwood.
At which point I kicked his shin and whacked him in the stomach. He both doubled over and hopped about. Which is difficult to achieve. Then I ran for my life. The orderly blew his whistle and sprinted after me. I charged across the street, fast running out of breath.
‘You won’t get away!’ He sounded within striking distance.
I swerved, changing direction. Began running down the middle of the road. I heard carriage wheels rumbling in the distance. As I got to the crossroads at the far end, my legs quickly turning to jelly, a carriage roared in front of me. And stopped.
The door flew open and a woman stuck her head out. ‘Hurry, Ivy!’
It was Miss Carnage!
‘Stop her!’ The orderly was a shadow’s length from me now. ‘She’s a runner from Lashwood!’
I jumped. Flew through the air in glorious style. And tumbled into the carriage. The driver whipped the horses eagerly and they took off, leaving the orderly shouting gibberish and throwing his whistle upon the road.
‘Oh, Ivy, are you all right?’ Miss Carnage looked at me from across the cab in horror. ‘Whatever has happened to you?’
I took a few frantic breaths. ‘Locked in a madhouse, dear.’
‘You poor girl – are you hurt?’
‘Not me, dear. Strong as an ox.’
The dreary librarian was beside herself. I’m almost certain she hadn’t had this much nervous excitement since she read Jane Eyre. Which raised an interesting question.
‘What are you doing here, Miss Carnage?’
Thick layers of shadow lay in patches inside the carriage. Every time we hit a pothole and Miss Carnage jolted back, her face would vanish as if she were a headless ghost.
‘I have been looking for you, Ivy,’ she said, and her soft voice was feather light. ‘I used your library card details to find your address, and went to see your parents. At first your mother denied even knowing you, then she said you were no longer welcome in her home.’
Which was to be expected. And not even a tiny bit hurtful.
I turned and looked out of the back window. ‘Can we tell the driver to turn around?’ I said. ‘I must see if Miss Frost is all right.’
‘Who is Miss Frost?’
‘A friend … well, I think she’s a friend, it’s hard to be sure. But she’s been hurt – a poisoned dart, no less.’
The driver whipped the horses again and their stride increased. But I wasn’t looking out of the window any more. I was looking at Miss Carnage.
She smiled but there was coldness in it. ‘Something wrong, Ivy?’
Yes, something was wrong. I just didn’t know what exactly.
‘How did you know where I was?’ I asked.
Miss Carnage sighed. ‘A friend told me.’
‘Who? Who told you?’
The librarian licked her lips. She sighed again and leaned back against the seat, her head slipping behind the veil of shadows.
‘I think we are much alike, Ivy, you and I – all alone in the world and trying to find our way.’
Miss Carnage’s hand flew to her face, vanishing in the gloom. When it emerged, her fingers clasped a nose. Yes, a nose! It was shockingly bent. And unmistakably hers.
I gasped. ‘What are you doing, Miss Carnage?’
Her other hand lifted to her face. Then emerged from the shadows holding a set of large teeth. Next, a monstrous chin. These hideous pieces of her face were dropped in her lap as if they were hairpins. Next, her thick glasses were removed and set aside. She fished out another pair and appeared to put them on.
‘Miss Carnage, are you falling apart? If so, I suggest we go to the nearest hospital.’
She sat forward, the light slipping over her face like a mask. Only it was the opposite – for the mask had come off. There she was. Plain features. Round spectacles. Hungry eyes.
Miss Always giggled wickedly and pulled the grey wig from her head. ‘I do love a surprise.’
Chapter 27
She was back. But, of course, she had never gone. All this time, Miss Always had been there. Disguised as a perfectly dull librarian. Was it too much to ask that I might have one ordinary friend? Someone who wasn’t barking mad or trying to deceive me!
‘You look
stunned,’ said Miss Always brightly. ‘Poor Ivy.’
I shrugged. ‘Not really, dear. Miss Carnage was frightfully dull and gave off a rather foul odour – I suspected it was you all along.’
‘Clever girl,’ said Miss Always doubtfully.
I lunged for the door. Miss Always’ foot flew at my hand as I reached the handle, knocking it away. Then Miss Always pulled a dagger from her pocket. Pointed it at me.
‘Must we play these games?’ she said softly. ‘I do not wish to hurt you, but I certainly will if I have to – if you doubt me, just remember Miss Frost with a poison dart in her neck.’
‘Is she dead?’
‘I hope so,’ said Miss Always with a faint smile. ‘You still believe she is on your side, but I am the one who has opened your eyes. I am the one who wrote the rules that allowed you to reach Prospa.’
I was frowning. ‘You are Ambrose Crabtree?’
Miss Always let out a dry laugh.
‘You wanted me to reach Rebecca? You wanted me to help her?’
‘What do I care about that foolish girl? What I wanted was for you to understand your power.’ She shrugged. ‘I also planned to have you snatched before you reached Prospa House, saving me the bother of dragging you there myself – but as I was never certain when you would try and cross, my underlings failed to intercept you.’
I was no longer shocked by Miss Always’ treachery. But I was puzzled. ‘Why would you want to capture me, when I was right under your nose at the library?’
‘You are no good to me here, Ivy,’ came the playful reply. ‘I need you in Prospa so that you can fulfil your destiny – with my guidance and protection, of course.’
Oh, that again. ‘You still think I’m the Dual?’
Before she could answer, I jumped up and reached for the carriage door again, desperate to escape. Like a flash, Miss Always pinned me against the seat, the dagger at my throat.
‘You can travel to Prospa as easily as walking from one room to the next,’ said Miss Always eagerly, ‘you healed my wrist back at Butterfield Park, you wore the Clock Diamond and survived.’ She looked at my face with something like bewilderment. ‘Out of the millions of girls who roam this world, you are the last I would pick to be the Dual, but fate has decided otherwise.’
Which gave me a rather brilliant idea (I am prone to such insights during times of crisis, having all the natural instincts of a pig with a wolf at the door).
‘Get off me, you hideous jackal!’ I said, pushing her away.
Miss Always released her hold on me and sat back in her seat. Waved the dagger in my general direction. ‘I know what you are thinking, Ivy, but it will not work.’
I folded my arms with tremendous petulance. ‘What am I thinking?’
‘That you can escape this carriage by crossing into Prospa.’
‘You said so yourself, dear – I have great power. I could cross this instant and you couldn’t stop me.’
‘Probably not,’ came Miss Always’ startling admission, ‘but if you hoped to reach Prospa House, you would be sadly disappointed. In fact, you would find yourself in the white woods and I can promise you, it would take great luck to make it out of there alive.’
‘So long as I focus on Rebecca, I will reach Prospa House.’
Miss Always laughed coldly. ‘To start with, I highly doubt that she is still there – not after your failed attempt to liberate her. As for the rest of it, you only know what I wanted you to know. Prospa is not somewhere out in the universe, it sits here beside your world, and when you cross, you reach the same point in my world as you have just left in yours.’
I had never heard such poppycock. So I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
Miss Always sat forward in her seat. ‘A girl stands by herself in a room with four walls, no windows, no doors, no furniture – is she alone?’
‘Well, of course she is, you homicidal bookworm!’
‘But what if the wall on her left is a partition and on the other side of it sits another girl just like herself. Both girls believe they are alone, but they are actually standing in the same room. What separates them is the partition, or as we like to call it in Prospa, the veil.’
The carriage lurched to the left and we were jiggled about. Miss Always looked out at the black night and seemed pleased with our progress.
‘The first time you reached Prospa House, I suppose you thought it was mere chance that you wound up on Winslow Street? Did it not feel as if you were being pulled there?’
I didn’t nod. I didn’t want to give the horrid wretch the satisfaction.
‘You will only find Prospa House in that spot, for that is where it stands in my world,’ said Miss Always.
Naturally, I didn’t want to believe it. But it felt true. Hadn’t I returned to Winslow Street on my second crossing to Prospa House? Perhaps, without realising, I had known it all along.
‘Cheer up,’ said Miss Always, kicking me with her boot. ‘I have the most wonderful news. Tomorrow night is the new half-moon and we will travel to Prospa together.’
I looked past Miss Always and focused on Prospa. Within seconds the cab began to shudder with an insistent buzz. Then the Clock Diamond bloomed into life and began to throw out great pulses of honey-coloured light.
‘What are you doing?’ said Miss Always urgently.
My gaze shifted to her. I let all thoughts of lifting the veil fall from my mind. After all, that had never been the plan.
I fished the stone out from beneath my dress.
Miss Always was scowling up a storm. ‘You were trying to cross, weren’t you?’
‘Heavens no.’ I looked into the stone. It was churning with a golden light, nothing more. But I wasn’t about to let Miss Always know that. ‘The Clock Diamond tends to bring attention to itself when it has something to show me.’ I gasped. Looked at Miss Always with considerable alarm. Looked back at the stone. ‘It’s of you, dear.’
There was trepidation on her face, though she tried to mask it. ‘Do you take me for a fool?’
‘I’m afraid it’s true, dear – your hair is awfully grey, and you have aged with all the enthusiasm of a sun-dried tomato, so I can only assume this is a vision of the future. Your future.’
Miss Always stiffened. Adjusted her glasses. ‘I will not play your silly games, Ivy.’
‘You are walking between a crowd of people with two men at your side.’ My eyes widened with great commitment. ‘Oh my … they are leading you up to a podium – perhaps you are getting an award?’ Then I looked at her with as much sympathy as I could muster. ‘Oh, Miss Always, it is to the hangman’s noose they are taking you. The crowd seems rather delighted, cheering and carrying on, but you should be terribly proud, dear, for you are putting up a marvellous fight.’
Miss Always could stand it no longer. ‘Show me that,’ she snapped, reaching for the necklace.
Which is when I made my move. Kicking her right in the stomach. She flew back with an almighty growl, the dagger dropping from her hand. I leapt up, reached for the handle and threw open the door. Cold wind flew into the carriage like a tempest.
‘No!’ cried Miss Always.
She lurched across the cab, grabbing my arm. Now or never, came the voice in my head. I yanked my arm from her grasp and jumped.
The ground was a dark blur beneath me, the only light thrown by the lantern near the driver’s seat. My arms thrashed about. My legs kicked. I hit the ground with a thump. Stumbling madly. Flying forward. My hands skidded along the ground. Knees scraping the hard road. If there was pain, I didn’t feel it.
The carriage came to a sudden stop. The horses reared up. The carriage wheels skidded across the gravel. Pushing up, I found my feet and started running, just as Miss Always bounded out of the cab.
We were somewhere outside London, though I did not know exactly where. The quarter-moon had emerged from behind its cover, dropping pockets of pale light upon the landscape. It was a barren place, with barely a tree to hide behind. But up
ahead there was a factory of some kind, with lights in the windows and smoke billowing from enormous chimney stacks.
My legs were tired. I was tired. But I bolted towards the building, hopeful that I might find refuge within it. I just had to reach it before Miss Always reached me.
‘I can outrun you, Ivy,’ yelled Miss Always rather cheerfully from behind me.
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ I cried back.
The factory was surrounded by a fence. At the front was a set of large gates. They appeared to be chained together and padlocked. Which was most unhelpful. I came to a sliding stop before them and gave them a good rattle. Miss Always was only a short distance away, galloping like a stallion.
I took a few steps back, then ran at the gates – leapt at it, gripping the fence with fingers and boots. I began to climb like a crazed monkey, reaching the top in no time. Being magnificently athletic, I swung myself over and clambered down the other side. With Miss Always nearly upon me, I leapt from the fence and landed lightly in the dirt. Safe at last!
I raced across the yard towards the building. Stopped a sensible distance from the gates and turned back.
‘I will alert the workers to my plight,’ I called out, ‘and you will be locked away. I would make a hasty retreat if I were you!’
But Miss Always did not do that. She had stopped about ten feet from the gates. Her arms were out and her head thrown back. I gulped. For I knew what was coming. She let out a hideous cry which seemed to make the very ground tremble.
Then they came. Emerging from the thick shadows around her skirt – three Locks on either side. Impossibly short. Dark robes. Hoods shrouding their revolting copper faces. They began to spin in a furious whirl, charging the gates like six small hurricanes. Great gusts of dirt churning around them.
I shivered. Began to back up.
The metal gates rattled furiously as the Locks closed in, then simply blew off their hinges, flying over my head, and hitting the factory wall with a deafening clang. The frightful little villains stopped spinning as easily as they had begun. They stood in a line facing me, as Miss Always took her place in the very centre. The dirt and dust fell around us like rain.